The underworld: The story of Robert Sinclair, minerWelsh, James C.
General
The underworld: The story of Robert Sinclair, miner
Welsh, James C.
Coal miners -- Fiction; Coal mines and mining -- Fiction
"Ay, but wait till you hear him. We can a' come up here as angry as
hell, ready to string him up to the nearest lamp-post; but after he has
spoken an' slaivered ower us for a while, we begin to feel differently,
an' finally gang awa hame wi' our minds made up that we are the salt o'
the earth. Man, it tak's a' the sting oot o' bein' dune, to be dune sae
well an' sae completely."
"Yes, but when you know that why do you allow yourselves to be
wheedled?"
"Ach, man; it's a' right askin' that question; but efter thae chaps get
round aboot you, wi' their greasy tongues, an' their flatterin' ways,
you jist begin to think that it's nae use to bother ony mair aboot
resistin'. Look at that auld fermer-collier lookin' chiel, wi' his white
heid an' his snipe-nose an' a smile on his face that wad mak' you
believe he was gaun to dae you some big service. That's the smile that
has made him Prime Minister. You'd think frae his face that he was just
a solid easy-gaun kindly auld fermer, who took a constant joy in givin'
jeelie-pieces to hungry weans. But when he speaks, and gets a grip o'
you, he's yin o' the sooplest lawyers that ever danced roun' the rim o'
hell withoot fallin' in. He'd do his faither, that yin. He wad that."
Robert looked at the various individuals as they were described, keenly
interested and feeling that this comrade of his was describing much of
what he himself had felt about these men, and wondered more and more as
to what it was that had given them their power.
"They're a fine rogues' gallery when you see them a' sittin' there,"
went on the other. "They ken we are up here the day determined to demand
our terms, an' that's the way they are a' turned out. Just you wait till
they begin, an' you'll see a fine bit o' play actin'. They'll play us
aboot as auld Tom Tervit wad play a trout in the Clyde. They hae ony
amount o' patience, an' they'll gae you onything but the thing you want.
They'd promise us the kingdom o' Heaven; an' they'll give us plenty o'
line to run wi'; but a' the time they'll be lookin' for a chance to land
us. An' they'll do it. Jist you wait."
"Well, it will be our own fault if we let them," said Robert, shortly,
as he listened. "I would not let any of them do that. If we have our
minds made up on what we want, I can't see why we should be wheedled
like that."
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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